


june 27th

by youmeandem



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmeandem/pseuds/youmeandem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Camila doesn't know how to breathe without Lauren, and losing her feels like dying all over again."</p><p><i>or;</i> camila is a vampire</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bright flashes. Sharp teeth breaking tender skin. A gasp of pain becomes the last breath she takes. Red drops melting with dark hair. A final sigh of exhaustion; a lost fight.

 

There is no physical pain in death.

Camila’s skin feels cold to the touch. Her eyes no longer need glasses to see. Her lungs no longer need to breathe. Her heart no longer needs to beat.

She never wondered about what it would be like to lie inside a coffin. She always assumed that by the time she ended up in one, she wouldn’t notice it anymore. At the thought of her own funeral, she worried more about the music they would play, or the things they would say. It never really crossed her mind what it would be like to attend her own funeral alive. She was never supposed to.

Sometimes things just got messed up. Sometimes things ended in pain and hurt and tears, instead of peace and comfort and laughter.

 

For the first time in years, “I love you, Camz,” is met with silence.

 

Camila wakes up to the sound of a shovel scraping over her coffin. She doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything to let Ally know that she’s okay. Alive and breathing. (Sort of.) She lets Ally do all the work. It was her idea, after all.

Ally takes fifteen minutes to dig open the grave and pry open the gasket on Camila’s coffin. When it breaks, Ally is the first thing Camila sees. Blonde hair falling down, dark eyes with a hint of tenderness, a sad smile on her lips.

Next to Ally’s head is the moon. It’s almost full, shining down upon the Earth like Camila didn’t just lose her entire world. She thinks about Lauren; about how much the moon meant to both of them, about how they bonded over how pretty it looked before they really knew each other. In a way, the moon brought them together, and in a way, it makes Camila feel less alone right now.

Ignoring Ally’s extended hand, she tests her newfound strength by climbing out of the grave— _ her _ grave. Her movements are a lot more deft as she reaches for the second shovel Ally brought, and she’s surprised at how easy it is to scoop up large piles of sand onto the blade.

She waits until Ally’s done salvaging whatever is left of the coffin before she starts shoveling sand into the open grave. Most of it ends up on Ally’s feet, but Camila doesn’t care if Ally gets mad. What’s the worst she can do? Kill her?

Being dead sounds a lot more peaceful than being undead.

But Ally doesn’t get mad. She just gives Camila a long, sad look as she shakes off the dirt, and hops out of the six-foot deep hole like she’s not just five feet tall herself. She almost makes being a vampire seem graceful.

Camila tries not to look too impressed as she continues to shovel more and more sand into the grave. They work side by side in complete silence, but Camila is highly aware of everything that is happening around her.

Things she would’ve never even noticed as a human demand her attention now, like the soft blowing of the wind through the trees, and the way Ally’s hands tighten around her shovel every time she digs her blade into the pile of sand.

Camila watches Ally from the corner of her eye. There is a hint of sadness in the slightly downwards tilt of her lips, like she understands what Camila is going through. (It’s not even that crazy of an idea, Camila thinks. After all, Ally was human once, too.)

A heavy feeling settles in her stomach at that realization, and it makes her knees feel weak, like they could buckle at any given moment. Vampires are, mostly, immortal. If nothing crazy happens, Camila could live forever. Even just the thought seems an intangible concept. Things like this happen in fiction; or at the very least to other people. The fact that this is her new reality hasn’t quite sunk in yet.

When they’re done, Ally looks at her. “Are you ready to go?”

Camila stares back. Is she supposed to go with Ally now? Is that how things work in the vampire world—you stay with whoever turned you?

Ally seems to know exactly what she’s thinking. “You don’t have to come with me, but if you do, I’ll protect you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know in order to survive.”

Leaving Ally is tempting. Camila could run away right now. She could wait until the sun comes up and feel the blisters burst all over her skin until there’s nothing left to burn. She could drive a wooden stake through her heart. She could make an end to this life before it really starts. It would surely save her and Ally a lot of trouble. But there’s something about Ally that makes Camila trust her. She nods once.

Ally almost smiles. “Okay, let’s go then.”

Camila doesn’t look around when she follows Ally out of the cemetery.

 

Lauren turns twenty on a Monday, two months later. Rain is pouring down on Miami, and Camila is completely soaked, except for the flat package wrapped in three plastic bags and one red paper bag. Inside of it is a leather bound notebook, something Lauren has wanted for years but never got around to buying one herself.

Camila slips into the shadows across from Lauren’s house. As much as she wants to deliver her present to Lauren in person, she knows she can’t. It would defeat the entire purpose of faking her death. And, like Ally said, it’s best if humans don’t know about the existence of vampires in general. If they can’t handle that some of their own species have different skin colors, they certainly won’t be able to handle the existence of vampires.

Lauren’s bedroom window is the only one of the house that’s lit up behind the closed curtains. Camila tries to listen and make out what’s happening inside, but between learning about vampire history and controlling her thirst, she hasn’t had much time to focus on her heightened senses yet. Apparently supernatural hearing isn’t as easy as it sounds—literally.

It takes Lauren thirty minutes to finally turn off the lights, making it safe for Camila to cross the street and climb up the steps to her front porch. She takes the present from under her jacket and spins around in a circle to find a good spot to hide it; not too obvious, but not too hidden either.

She eventually settles for placing it between a potted plant and a wooden bench almost right in the line of sight of the front door, making sure the wind won’t be able to blow it away before Lauren finds it.

After double-checking that this is indeed the best spot to leave unannounced and mysterious birthday presents, Camila steps back into the rain. 

At vampire speed, it barely takes a second before she’s back between the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this happened. this fic will be relatively short, but i hope you'll all still enjoy reading it. if you do, please consider leaving kudos or a comment to let me know. don't forget to smile today :)


	2. Chapter 2

When Camila asks Ally if they can drive down to Miami at the beginning of June, Ally doesn’t reply at first. Something unreadable flashes behind her eyes, and she gives Camila a long look, but that’s it, and Camila knows not to push the subject.

Despite her original intentions of leaving Ally as soon as she knew enough about vampire culture to survive on her own, she found that she actually likes Ally’s company when she’s not being bossed around or being yelled at for being irresponsible about something. (One time Camila had accidentally left a bloody handprint on the back of Ally’s car and the police had connected them to the murders of three people. Ally had come home covered in blood that night, with a new set of car keys, and to this day Camila hasn’t been able to get the disappointed tone in Ally’s voice out of her mind.)

Camila doesn’t bring the topic up again, but she’s not exactly surprised when Ally wakes her up one day to tell her that they’re leaving for Miami in two hours. 

 

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Camila looks up from where she’s trying to wrap Lauren’s birthday present in a way that won’t make it seem like it was done by a ten-year old. “No, I know where to go.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Ally says. She sits down on the couch, and gestures at the present. “Here, let me do it.”

Camila doesn’t reply, but she shoves the half-wrapped package across the table, and folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t see why I can’t go on my own. Everything went fine last time. I don’t need you to chaperon me.”

“Fine.” Ally cuts out a new piece of wrapping paper and places the present—a photo album filled with pictures from Lauren’s favorite photographer—in the middle with such precision that Camila almost rolls her eyes. She doesn’t, though, because Ally is making sure she doesn’t have to give Lauren a badly wrapped present, and also because Ally could probably kill her.

When the present is done, Ally leans back into the couch. “You know I’m only looking out for you, right? You’re still young, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, one way or the other.”

“I’m twenty,” Camila says, mildly annoyed that even as a vampire there are still things she can’t do. Things that seem so easy when Ally does them. “I’m perfectly capable to take care of myself.”

“Believe me when I say that twenty is still very young.” Ally presses two fingers against each of her temples, rubbing them in small circles like she has a headache. “Just make sure you don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Whatever.” Camila grabs her gift and puts it in a plastic bag for protection. She’s been looking forward to this day for an entire year, and she’s not about to let it be ruined because Ally suddenly feels like being overprotective.

 

Camila is still five blocks away from Lauren’s house when she first hears the music, her heart sinking into her stomach at the realization that it’s most likely coming from Lauren’s sound system. It doesn’t take long before she reaches Lauren’s street, and her conjectures are confirmed by the red party cups scattered all over the place, and the large LED-light sign that says  _ 21! _ that’s flickering pathetically in the front yard. 

Judging by the cars lining up until around the block and the endless sea of voices coming from inside the house, there must be at least a couple dozen people attending Lauren’s party, and Camila briefly wonders how much of a mess it would make if she murdered them all.

(She doesn’t want Lauren to spend her twenty-first birthday at the police station being interrogated about the mass murder that took place at her house, though, so she doesn’t actually consider it.)

Camila stands on the sidewalk in front of Lauren’s house for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do. She knows what Ally would do, and she also knows that Ally would probably be right, but she can’t bring herself to turn around and accept that she didn’t even get to leave Lauren a present this year. On the one hand she’s willing to stick around until the party will inevitably end, on the other she knows that the risk of someone recognizing her is much too big.

Just when she’s about to give up and walk away, the front door swings open and a tall guy covered in tattoos steps outside with a cigarette between his lips. Camila recognizes him instantly—Zayn, one of Lauren’s friends from college.  

He barely glances Camila’s way as he sits down on the steps leading up to the front porch and lights his cigarette, but Camila can’t take her eyes off of him. Something heavy settles in her stomach as she realizes that Zayn probably takes his time with Lauren for granted, like it can’t all end with blinding white lights and screeching breaks and the smell of melting tires on asphalt.

Zayn must somehow notice Camila’s staring, because when he’s halfway through his cigarette his gaze flickers up, and his eyes widen. “C-Camila?”

Camila unfreezes at the mention of her name. Shit. She messed up. Ally is gonna be  _ so  _ mad. “Uh,” she stutters weakly. “Who?”

“Holy shit,” Zayn says, just above a whisper. He takes a few long strides until he’s in front of Camila. “I thought you were dead.”

Camila wrinkles her nose at the smell of alcohol on Zayn’s breath, instinctively taking a step backwards. She doesn’t want to kill Zayn, but she can’t risk him telling Lauren about any of this. Lauren is not supposed to know that Camila is still alive, sort of. 

Camila sets her present down in the grass of Lauren’s front yard so it won’t get messy, her eyes locked on Zayn’s throat. His skin pulsates with every heartbeat, and Camila bares her fangs with a low growl. Now that she’s set her mind on killing Zayn, she doesn’t care that she once knew him before, or what his death would do to Lauren. All she can think about is the taste of his blood on her lips, the sudden rush of warmth it will bring. Few things are better than fresh human blood, and Camila hasn’t felt that high in way too long.

She takes a step forward and reaches up to pull Zayn down like she’s going to kiss him, but before she can dig her teeth into his skin, two hands wrap around her arms and tear her away from him.

Her first instinct is to attack whoever just interrupted her; she hisses through gritted teeth, and narrows her eyes to look through the red haze of rage that’s clouding her vision. She’s about to lunge forward and rip their throat out when she feels the same two hands from before gripping at her shoulders.

“Camila, it’s me. Calm down, it’s just me.”

Ally.

Camila blinks Ally into vision, slowly regaining control over her body again. Her nostrils flare in embarrassment and she opens her mouth to mutter an apology, but Ally’s already gone to take care of Zayn.

If she hadn’t just almost killed two people, Camila would’ve thought the sight of Ally compelling Zayn to be really funny; Ally is barely five feet tall, and yet she has full control over Zayn, who’s towering over her by almost a full foot.

“Nothing happened here,” Ally says in a low and commanding voice. “You went out for a smoke, and that’s it.” When she dismisses him with the wave of her hand, Zayn blinks a few times before trudging towards the front door and disappearing back inside.

Ally turns to Camila. “Perfectly capable to take care of yourself, huh?”

Camila bites her lip. “Uh—”

“It’s okay,” Ally sighs. She picks up Lauren’s present, and hands it back to Camila. “You better hurry; it’s almost dawn.”

Camila is still a little dazed as she hurries across Lauren’s front yard. She double-checks that her present is still intact before carefully placing it between the potted plant and the wooden bench, making sure the wind won’t be able to blow it away.

“Come on, my car is around the corner,” Ally says, gesturing vaguely at some point in the distance.

The walk to Ally’s car is filled with silence. Camila mentally prepares herself for a speech about responsibility and whatnot, because she knows she fucked up. She completely lost control with Zayn, and if Ally hadn’t interfered he would’ve been dead right now. No matter how much she still craves his blood, she doesn’t want to be responsible for the second death of someone Lauren cares about.

“Thank you,” Camila mumbles, a few minutes later, while Ally is driving them back to the house.

Ally looks at her. “You’re welcome.”

“Are you mad?”

“No,” Ally says, her voice a tone softer than Camila’s used to in situations like this. “Just—don’t doubt me again, okay? You’re important to me, Camila. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Camila’s eyes snap up to Ally’s face at that. She knew Ally cared about her, but it’s the first time Ally actually said it. It’s nice. Camila feels the corners of her lips tugging up into a sheepish smile, and she reaches over to touch Ally’s hand for a moment.

Ally rolls her eyes at the contact, but there’s a gentle smile on her lips, too.


	3. Chapter 3

On Lauren’s twenty-second birthday, Camila sees her from across the street in downtown Miami, hanging off the arms of Dinah and Normani, two of their high school friends. All three of them are obviously well on their way to getting drunk, their steps unsteady and laughs too loud.

Something twists inside Camila’s gut at the sight. She was only supposed to drop off the present—a vintage polaroid camera—and get back to the house, but she can’t tear her eyes away from Lauren now.

She hasn’t seen Lauren in three years, which, considering that she’s likely going to be around for at least a few hundred more, shouldn’t feel like forever. But it does.

Lauren looks different. Her hair is dyed black, and it’s loosely bouncing against her shoulders with every step she takes. There’s a certain air of maturity surrounding her, and when she speaks her voice is lower and huskier than Camila remembers. She’s beautiful.

Normani says something that makes Lauren laugh, and Camila’s mouth goes dry at the sight. She has to remind herself that this is Lauren, not some random girl she can approach and bite down on at the end of the night. Her body’s reactions to Lauren are completely unrelated to the vampiric side of things—this is what it’s like to be attracted to someone when the endgame isn’t drinking their blood.

But when Lauren, Dinah, and Normani turn the corner and disappear from Camila’s field of vision, she can’t stop herself from spinning around and following them from a distance. Her eyes are glued to Lauren’s back, like she’s on the hunt and watching her prey’s every step until it’s the right moment to attack.

From the corner of her eye, Camila catches sight of a clock that reads 4:32 AM, and she knows that Ally is waiting for her to come home. She also knows that she didn’t bring a phone with her, which means she can’t text Ally to let her know she’s not in trouble, but as much as she’s dreading a speech from Ally about how she can’t trust Camila if she doesn’t give her a reason to, she can’t bring herself to turn around.

Lauren and her friends eventually enter a bar a few blocks down, and Camila follows them inside without a second thought. A wall of body heat and the smell of fresh blood hits her the second she steps inside, and her mind grows foggy as her vampire instincts take over. 

One girl in particular, a blonde wearing a low cut shirt that perfectly exposes her neck, catches her attention. Camila’s fangs dig into her bottom lip and she carefully inches closer to her, already thinking of ways to lure her away from the crowd. She closes the distance between them, subtly placing her hand on the girl’s swaying hips, and bats her eyelashes with a flirtatious grin on her lips. The girl’s eyes turn playful and she presses closer to Camila, the scent of her skin becoming almost overwhelming in such close proximity.

Camila instinctively leans closer to press her lips against the girl’s neck when a glass falls from the bar and shatters on the floor. The sound immediately pulls Camila back into reality, and she not-so subtly pushes the girl off of her. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, ignoring the indignant look on the girl’s face, and before getting distracted again she starts making her way to the bar Lauren is sitting at.

She climbs onto a bar stool and slaps a twenty onto the bar and orders some colorful cocktail, keeping her head down as much as possible to lower the risks of someone recognizing her. This bar isn’t too far from where she grew up, and the chances of running into someone she knew are a lot higher than she wants to admit.

Although the bartender blocks her view on Lauren most of the time, Camila is still highly aware of how this is the first time they’ve been in such close proximity in over three years. The realization is enough to make Camila’s head spin, and she quickly downs her drink. (Alcohol needs to come in much higher quantities to make her feel its effects now, and even then it’s not as good as the high after drinking fresh human blood.)

From the other side of the bar, Dinah and Normani order more tequila shots for the three of them, and as the bartender ducks to grab the bottle from underneath the bar, Camila’s eyes lock on Lauren. Lauren’s head is resting on the bar, like she’s already passed out, and the only indication that she’s still breathing is the slight movement of her shoulders—too subtle for human eyes.

Camila doesn’t like it. She knows how Lauren gets when she’s drunk. At first it’s all rainbows and butterflies, but after a while she’ll get slow and if she lays down for long enough she’ll fall asleep. It’s not hard to figure out that Lauren’s had enough to enter the second phase, and Camila hates Dinah and Normani for not noticing that.

She watches the group for a while, trying really hard not to walk up to them and tell them that if they cherish their life they need to start taking better care of Lauren. They’re her friends, for god’s sake; they’re supposed to know these type of things.

Camila orders another drink, and she wishes that she could be human again, even if it’s just for one day.

 

She ends up ordering a glass of water for Lauren, to help her sober up a little. It’s the least she can do, and since Dinah and Normani are too drunk themselves to notice that Lauren is drifting in and out of sleep, she figures it’s pretty much necessary to intervene.

Lauren sits up when the bartender places the glass in front of her, her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. She asks something Camila can’t quite make out, and the bartender jerks his thumb over his shoulder in Camila’s direction.

Shit.

Camila tries to duck away behind a really tall man, but she’s too late. Lauren’s jaw drops and her eyes widen, and the world seems to stop spinning for a moment.

“Camila,” Lauren whispers, and there’s so much pain and emotion in that one word that Camila almost throws all caution in the wind. She wants to hold Lauren so badly, even if it’s just for a split second, even if it would mean she’d never get to come back here again. In that moment, she’d do anything to bury her face into Lauren’s neck one last time.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Camila knows she has to move. She has to get out of here, minimize the damage. She can still make Lauren believe it was a mistake, that she was never really here. But she can’t tear her eyes away from Lauren.

Lauren’s eyes are still just as green as when Camila first realized she was falling in love with her. Lauren’s tentative smile is still the most beautiful thing in the world. Lauren is still the girl Camila’s loves more than anything, and she has spent the last three years holding on to that final piece of humanity she had left.

And then Lauren says her name again.

Camila blinks. She’s not supposed to be here. Lauren is not supposed to know that she’s still alive. Lauren is supposed to be moving on from Camila, and that can’t happen if she knows that Camila isn’t really dead.

Camila unfreezes, finally coming to her sense.. She slips off the bar stool and starts making her way back outside. She flinches when Lauren repeats her name, fighting against the urge to go back.

“What are you talking about?” Normani asks.

“It’s Camila,” Lauren replies breathlessly. “She’s here. I saw her.” 

“Lauren,” Dinah says, softly. “Camila’s gone. She can’t be here. It’s just your imagination.”

“I swear I saw her.” Lauren’s voice breaks. “She’s right th—”

Camila slips outside before Lauren can finish her sentence, slamming the door shut behind her. She blinks against the tears burning in her eyes, but it’s no use. Her knees buckle under the weight of heartbreak, and she struggles to breathe.

She’s only a few feet away from the bar when the door opens again, and Dinah and Normani emerge from it, dragging a somewhat hysteric Lauren between them. Camila dashes around the corner as fast as she can, pressing herself against the wall to keep them from seeing her.

“We need to go back,” Lauren slurs, clearly struggling against the tight grip Dinah and Normani have on her arms. “Camila’s inside, we need to go back.”

“ _ Camila’s dead! _ ’ Normani snaps. “She’s been dead for three years, Lauren. You’re drunk, and you’re delusional. Camila isn’t here, and she’s not coming back. We know you miss her. We miss her, too. But it’s been three years. She’s gone. It’s time to let go.”

“Mani…” Dinah says, softly.

Normani sighs, her voice a lot gentler when she speaks again. “I know. I’m sorry. Let’s just go home, okay?”

No one replies, but three pairs of footsteps approach Camila’s hiding spot, and she shoots a quick prayer that they don’t notice her.

They don’t. They walk straight past Camila like she’s not even there.

It’s the way things are supposed to be, but it still makes Camila’s chest feel tight, and she has to bite down on her hand to herself from letting out all the frustration that’s been building up inside of her for the past three years in a scream.


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t want you to go to Miami this year,” Ally says, a few days before they’re supposed to leave if they still want to make it in time for Lauren’s birthday.

Camila’s head snaps up. “I already bought a present months ago.”

Ally closes the book she’d been reading, sitting up a little. “I just think it’s too much of a risk. She already saw you once, and we don’t know if she still remembers it.”

“She doesn’t,” Camila interrupts. “I know her, she was really drunk that night.”

Ally gives her a sad smile. “She may have gotten better at handling her alcohol. You can’t keep going back forever, Camila. You keep saying you want her to move on, but if you keep bringing her presents every day she’s bound to figure it out at some point. And what’s gonna happen then?”

“It’s only been four years,” Camila snaps. “I don’t need your permission to go places. If you don’t want to come along it’s fine, but I’m going either way, whether you like it or not.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Ally’s nostrils flare like they do when she’s getting mad. Camila braces herself for a long speech about how it’s time to let go and other bullshit, but it doesn’t come.

Ally shrugs, picking her up book again. “Okay. You’re right—you don’t need my permission. If you want to go you should go.”

“Wait, seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously. You know how to properly use compulsion now, and I can’t always be there to protect you anyway. Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid, like get yourself killed.” Ally lets out a soft sigh, but Camila’s still too baffled at her easy win to care.

She jumps up from where she’d been sitting on the couch, dropping a thankful kiss on top of Ally’s head on her way upstairs to start packing her bag.

 

It’s the first time they’ve been separated for this long, and it’s only been two days since Camila left Ally alone in New York. She thought she’d really enjoy having so much freedom and not having Ally trying to keep her from doing everything that sounds like fun—like bungee jumping without a rope, or swimming with sharks without a cage—but in reality it’s kind of lonely. 

She misses singing along to the radio with Ally on their road trips, and there’s an twist in her stomach every time she turns around to show something to Ally and Ally isn’t there. Camila wouldn’t go as far as calling it separation anxiety, but it does sort of feel like it.

It’s just that Ally has been there for her through some of the darkest times in her life as a vampire, and she started to get used to having her around. Ally makes her feel safe, both physically and emotionally, because Ally doesn’t judge. Nothing Camila says or feels makes Ally look at her differently (except that one time Camila slipped on ice and hit her head on a brick), and it’s easy to trust her because of it.

But Camila doesn’t actually know a lot about Ally. She knows that Ally’s old. Like, she’s been around for at least two-hundred years, but Camila never dared to ask for her real age. All she knows is that Ally was turned when she was twenty-two by her boyfriend, less than a month before he somehow managed to piss off some other vampires and ended up decapitated. Ally talked about him once after feeding, but when she realized what she was doing she got a dark glow in her eyes and stopped herself mid-sentence. Camila doesn’t even know his name.

After that Camila stopped trying to learn about Ally’s past—every time she tries to bring it up Ally shoots her a look that shuts her up immediately. It’s mildly annoying that Ally knows a lot of things about Camila and Camila knows virtually nothing about Ally, but there are also perks to hanging out with an older vampire. For example, Ally has property in most big cities around the world. (Camila doesn’t doubt that most of it was acquired illegally, but it’s not her place to judge if she spends most of her time living in those houses for free.)

It’s why they always stay in the same house when they’re in Miami, and, by now, entering that house almost feels like coming home to Camila. She spent her first week as a vampire here while she dealt with the emotional consequences of being buried alive by the people she loves because they thought she was dead, and it’s the only place she feels safe.

 

By the time Lauren turns twenty-three two days later, Camila has almost started to regret her decision to come here alone. She found some girls to keep her company, but it’s not the same thing. Pretty much the only good thing about not having Ally around is not having to share blood with her. While Camila usually only feeds once every few days, the readily available blood supply from the girls she compelled is too tempting to keep away from, and she spends most of her time going up and down the high that only fresh human blood can bring.

“Stay here while I’m gone,” she tells the girls, packing this year’s present—a new set of paint brushes—into a bag. She slings the bag over her shoulder and takes her car keys from the kitchen counter. She doesn’t worry about the girls; her power of compulsion is strong enough to keep them there for at least twelve hours, and Camila can’t stay away for over twelve hours without burning down to ashes so the consequences won’t be hers to deal with anyway.

It’s the first time she approaches Lauren’s house in a car rather than by foot, and she’s surprised at how much more comfortable she feels watching Lauren’s house from inside the car than standing in the shadows with her back pressed against a wall.

Camila counts six heartbeats—Lauren, Lauren’s family, and a stranger. They’re all in the living room, and occasionally someone moves their head in front of the window into Camila’s field of vision, but she doesn’t mind waiting. Just knowing that she made it back here for another year is enough to make the loneliness from the past few days worth it.

Camila is playing a game on her phone while she waits for everyone to go to sleep, which is why she almost misses it when the front door opens and Lauren steps outside, followed by Zayn.

They’re holding hands.

“I forgot my cigarettes,” Zayn says, already halfway into turning back around to grab them from the house. “Just a sec.”

Lauren lets out a soft sigh, then pulls him closer by the hem of his shirt. “Your cigarettes make you taste bad.”

When he turns back around to reply, she kisses him. He seems to melt into her, his hand falling off of the doorknob in favor of cupping Lauren’s face, and she giggles into his mouth.

“Come on,” she says. “You don’t need cigarettes to go on a walk.” She slips her hand back into his and starts tugging him away from the door, down the front porch, and onto the street. Her gaze flickers over Camila’s car for a moment, but it’s too short for her to see anything because then Zayn calls her name and she follows him around the corner.

Camila watches them with wide eyes and a bitter taste in her mouth. Her veins are burning with rage, causing her clenched fists to shake.

Lauren is dating Zayn. Of all people she could’ve dated, she chose Zayn.

Camila suddenly really wishes she’d killed him two years ago, or that she’d listened to Ally and not gone to Miami in the first place.

She sits frozen in the car, trying to wrap her mind around what she just saw. It’s one thing to know that Lauren is starting to move on, but it’s another that if Camila hadn’t been held back she would’ve been able to prevent this.

For a moment, she’s unsure what to do. Lauren’s birthday present is in the passenger’s seat, seemingly staring at her like it’s waiting to be put on Lauren’s front porch, but Camila’s not too sure she can handle giving Lauren anything right now.

(She also sort of hates that she still feels so strongly about Lauren, because, like. Camila is supposed to be dead. She’s never going to have another chance to be with Lauren. This is the way it’s supposed to be. But, unfortunately, there’s a difference between saying that she wants Lauren to move on, and seeing Lauren actually move on.)

Eventually, because Camila knows that Lauren and Zayn aren’t going to stay away forever and because it’s kind of a tradition by now, she grabs the paint brushes and sprints across the street to put them between the potted plant and the wooden bench on Lauren’s front porch.

She doesn’t linger around after that. Even before Lauren comes back, Camila presses down on the gas. If her only option is to see Lauren with Zayn, she’d rather not see Lauren at all.

 

When Camila comes home, the house is dark. The two girls she compelled are asleep on the couch, and at any other time Camila would’ve considered letting them sleep through the night for once. But she can still feel the sharp edges of a broken heart cutting into her chest, and the only way to make it easier to breathe is fresh blood.

She drops her bag and keys on the floor next to the front door, and kicks against the couch. “Wake up, I’m home.”

The girls wake with a jolt, blinking in confusion when they see Camila towering over them. For a moment, Camila is too angry to get out any words. Then she grabs one of the girls by the wrist and pulls her to her feet.

Without a word, she brushes the girl’s hair to the side to expose her neck, and she bares her fangs with a low growl. There are bite marks and bruises all over the girl’s skin, but she doesn’t make a sound when Camila bites down and starts drinking. The girl reaches up to grab Camila’s elbows to steady herself, gasping softly every time Camila swallows another mouthful of blood.

Camila closes her eyes as she feels warmth starting to spread through her body. It’s like every cell wakes up and starts vibrating, reacting to the sudden influx of blood. As more and more blood enters her system, Camila feels herself getting light-headed, and she starts to grow sloppy.

Usually this is the moment she stops to keep herself from draining her victim,, but her lungs are still burning and her hands are still trembling against the girl’s pale skin, and she wants nothing more than to just  _ forget _ .

She clenches her eyes shut against the image of Lauren kissing Zayn that seems to be permanently branded in her mind, ignoring the way the girl’s grip on her weakens more and more until her hands fall to her sides and her veins are empty.

There’s blood running down Camila’s chin when she drops the girl’s body on the floor, but she still doesn’t feel any better. Her arms are still aching, her eyes burning with unshed tears. 

Her gaze falls on the second girl, who’s still sitting on the couch, staring wide-eyed at the dead girl in the middle of the living room floor. She looks like Lauren—dark hair, bright eyes, pale skin. Camila faintly remembers that being the reason she chose her, out of everyone in the club, but right now it’s only making her hurt more. Lauren used to be the only thing that made her feel better on bad days, but now she’s the reason today has turned into one.

“She’s with someone else,” Camila growls. “She  _ kissed _ him. Right in front of me.”

Her nostrils flare in anger, and before she really knows what she’s doing, she leaps forward and presses her hands down on the girl’s throat. Her nails dig into soft skin, and she feels blood pooling underneath her palms. Green eyes that resemble Lauren’s widen, and the girl grips at Camila’s wrists, chest heaving in an attempt to breathe.

Camila’s vision is clouded with black spots from her high, and the rush of her previous kill is still running through her veins. She wants to see this girl suffer—like her. She needs feel the life leaving her body, like Camila can feel herself slipping away.

Camila presses down with burning rage until the girl’s eyes flutter closed, and then she starts to cry. Heavy sobs wreck through her body, hot tears streaming down her face. Her knees buckle underneath her and she lets go of the girl’s throat that’s slippery from all the blood. She’s gasping for air to fuel her screams, but all that comes out are soft whimpers.

Camila buries her face in her hands, tries to stifle her sobs with her sleeve, but nothing seems to be helping.

Lauren was the final string that kept her sane, and Lauren moving on feels like someone tore that string right out her chest. Camila doesn’t know how to breathe without Lauren, and losing her feels like dying all over again.


	5. Chapter 5

On Lauren’s twenty-fourth birthday it’s raining, and Camila is soaked from walking all the way over here from Ally’s house. She takes Lauren’s birthday present and puts in place between the potted plant and the wooden bench, a hint of a sad smile on her lips.

She stands on the front porch for a few seconds, and just when she’s about to turn around and leave this place behind forever, Lauren’s voice stops her.

“Camila.”

Camila’s head snaps up, and she instinctively takes a step backwards. Lauren is standing in the doorway with a mixture of confusion and sadness on her face, her eyes flickering over Camila before coming to a stop at her face.

“It’s really you,” she says, barely above a whisper, voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

Camila swallows. Her chest feels tight like her heart is beating against her ribs, and the corners of her lips twitch into an unsure smile. “Hey, Lauren.”

“Oh my god,” Lauren mumbles, face growing pale like she’s seen a ghost. It’s not far from the truth, actually. “How are you—what the—” Her voice trails off, and she searches Camila’s face for something. “Are you real?”

“Yes,” Camila breathes, slowly regaining control over her body again. She straightens her shoulders and gives Lauren a nod. “You’re not going crazy.”

Lauren blinks once, twice. Then her eyes fill with tears, and she leaps forward. Her body is warm against Camila’s, melting into her like she’s not five years older than the last time they held each other, and Camila can’t help but bury her face in Lauren’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into Lauren’s hair. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Lauren warm breath bounces off of Camila’s shoulder as she holds her tight enough for any human to break. She softly repeats the same three words over and over again, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” and she never once lets go.

Camila lets it happen, allows Lauren to  _ feel _ . She holds her in her arms, supports her weight while Lauren cries, mumbles soft apologies into Lauren’s ear. “You’re okay,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

Lauren cries for a full fifteen minutes, and Camila instantly lets go when she starts to pull back. She watches Lauren carefully, making sure to keep her distance to give Lauren time and space to process what is happening. None of this was the way Camila expected her night would go, and she can’t possibly fathom what it must be like for Lauren, who’d thought Camila had been dead for over five years.

Now that the initial shock is over, something changes in Lauren’s eyes when she looks at Camila again. Her face is red and puffy, but there’s a flicker of something Camila can’t quite put her finger on hiding behind her teary-eyed complexion, and Camila doesn’t know what to do.

She wants to reach out and hold Lauren again, but it’s not her place—it hasn’t been for the past five years. “You can ask,” she says. She doesn’t want to keep secrets from Lauren now, offering information as some sort of final birthday present.

Lauren bites down on her lip, running her hand through her hair. “Okay. Can we sit?” She gestures at the bench, and Camila nods. They sit down, Lauren on one end and Camila on the other, trying to look as open and approachable as possible.

Lauren takes a deep breath. “How are you—like, not to be rude or anything, but I saw you. You were  _ dead _ . I  _ buried _ you.”

“I faked it,” Camila says, softly. “Remember the car crash?” Lauren gives her a look, and Camila nods. “Right, of course. Uh—someone watched it happen. She tore open the car after that other car crashed into us and pulled us out. That’s why they found us on the street instead of inside the car. I guess she followed the ambulance to the hospital to see how we were doing, but then I—”

“You were in a coma,” Lauren interrupts. “That asshole crashed into your side of the car, and your head slammed through the glass. They told us you had sustained severe brain damage, and they weren’t sure if you were gonna make it. Your parents had to decide whether they wanted to keep you on life support, or—” Her voice breaks. “I watched you die, Camila. I held your hand.”

Camila clenches her jaw. None of this is new information for her; Ally told her the full story when she woke up in the hospital after her transformation. “The person I mentioned, the one who pulled us out, she did something to save me. I’m, uh, different now. It’s better if you don’t know too much.”

Lauren doesn’t say anything for a while, and then, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Camila breathes. “Are you?”

“I wasn’t for a while, but a lot of time passed. I’m twenty-three,” Lauren glances down at her watch, “I mean, I’m twenty-four now. I thought I’d never get over losing you, and I’m still not really over you, but, you know?”

“I know.” Camila follows Lauren’s eyes down to her wrist. It’s a little past midnight. She cracks a small smile, reaching over to grab the present from where she’d put it earlier, and holds it out to Lauren. “Happy birthday.”

Lauren’s fingers brush Camila’s when she takes the box from her, and she locks their gazes for a moment. “My first birthday after you…” she frowns. “I thought it was some sick joke when my dad said he found a package on our front porch. I thought they wanted to cheer me up by surprising me with an extra present, or something. But then it kept happening. It was really you, two years ago at that bar, wasn’t it?” 

“I thought you were too drunk to remember,” Camila sighs. “You weren’t supposed to see me, obviously. I didn’t mean to follow you into that bar, but I hadn’t seen you in so long and—well. I thought you’d believe them when they said you were just seeing things. Should’ve known you wouldn’t.”

Lauren gives her a wry smile. “I didn’t dare to believe it, I guess, but it was too coincidental, with the gifts and stuff.” She reaches over to touch Camila’s hand, but ends up scooting closer and leaning her head on Camila’s shoulder. They still fit.

“Is this okay?” Lauren asks, hooking her arm through Camila’s. “Can we pretend it’s still five years ago and none of this ever happened?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods. “Just for a bit.” She wraps her arm around Lauren’s waist, allowing herself to close her eyes for a few moments and  _ pretend _ .

They sit like that for a while. Camila listens to Lauren’s heartbeat slowing down to a normal rhythm again, notices changes in her breathing pattern whenever she makes even the slightest movement. It’s peaceful, like this is supposed to be their reality.

“I miss you so much,” Lauren whispers, breaking the silence. “Not a day goes by where I don’t miss you.”

“I know. I miss you, too.”

Lauren lets out a shaky breath. “Do you think you can come back? No one has to know about it. This can be our secret. I don’t even have to know anything. I just—I don’t want to lose you again.”

Camila swallows a  _ yes of course _ , gesturing at the present instead. “You know you’re allowed to open it, right?”

A soft thud inside Lauren’s chest tells Camila that Lauren caught onto the lack of a reply, but then Lauren nods and starts fumbling with the wrapping paper, revealing a small, black box. Camila pretends not to notice the way Lauren’s fingers are visibly trembling as she opens it and pulls out a silver necklace with a green pendant.

“It’s a moonstone,” Camila explains. “They’re one of your three birthstones, and since we always had that thing with the moon, I figured it made the most sense. I chose green because it matches your eyes.”

Lauren runs her fingers over the pendant, and she unhooks the necklace. “Can you put it on?”

Camila nods silently, brushing aside Lauren’s hair to expose her neck. She puts on the necklace, her fingertips touching Lauren’s skin as she carefully places it on the right spot. Lauren freezes, goosebumps appearing on the back of her neck.

Camila stares at it for a moment. Her mind is racing, trying to catch up with the surge of feelings rushing through her body, stronger and more forceful than ever before. Without a second thought, Camila presses a soft kiss against the tattoo on the back of Lauren’s neck.

And then things happen really fast. Lauren turns around, and even before Camila’s vampiric sense realize what’s happening, Lauren kisses her.

Camila gasps into her mouth, returning the kiss in a moment of lost control. She reaches up behind Lauren to tangle her fingers in her hair, pulls her closer by the small of her back, kisses her to remember.

This is the Lauren she wants to remember. Not Lauren crying at her funeral, not Lauren getting drunk with her friends, not Lauren kissing someone else. She wants to remember Lauren like  _ Lauren _ , the girl she fell in love with when she was fourteen. Lauren, the girl she’ll never stop loving, no matter how long she’ll live. Lauren, with lips that taste like love and happiness and peace.

“I love you,” Lauren mumbles, thumb running over Camila’s cheekbone. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Camila whispers, almost immediately. “I’ll always love you.”

She kisses Lauren one more time, and then turns away. Her fingers are trembling when she touches Lauren’s chin, and she feels tears burning behind her eyes when she looks into Lauren’s. She takes a deep breath to steady her voice, barely able to make the words come out steadily, without hesitation. “Forget any of this happened. Forgot who bought you these presents, but remember that they’re from someone special. Stop waiting for me—I’m not coming back. It’s better this way.” 

“It’s better this way,” Lauren echoes back, her voice hollow and distant. “You love me.”

Camila nods once, her thumb brushing Lauren’s bottom lip. “Goodbye, Lauren.” She drops her hand from Lauren’s face, and blinks to break the compulsion.

Lauren stares at her for a few moments, eyes glazed over and distant, and Camila’s heart shatters at the realization that this is the last time she’ll be here. She can’t come back. Lauren deserves to move on, and as much as Camila wants to keep seeing Lauren, she has to let her go. Lauren deserves better than to sit around waiting to see her once a year. It hurts, and Camila already misses her, but it’s for Lauren’s own good.

Camila watches as Lauren gets to her feet and clutches at the now-unwrapped box. She opens the front door and steps inside the house without acknowledging Camila’s presence any further, and when the lock turns, Camila flinches.

Tears well up in her eyes, and she takes a shaky breath . Her feet are heavy as she walks down the path down Lauren’s front yard, and her stomach clenches with every step she takes. It feels like she’s fighting against her own heart, barely resisting the urge to turn around and take back every word she said.

She only turns around once when she reaches the street; then she pulls up her hood and disappears into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...i'm sorry.
> 
> hopefully you still enjoyed reading this short fic, and if you did please consider leaving a kudo or a comment to let me know. don't forget to smile today :)
> 
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